


stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine

by dankobah



Series: stoner!reylo [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BRIEF stormpilot mention, Binge Drinking, Bodily Fluids, F/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, i wrote this on a 25mg edible and im hoping for the best, idk what else to tag this as, let ben fuckin graduate 2k19, o well, overall this is a mess, someone just let these two sleep, this is the "taking an edible at a college party" AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 02:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: Ben finds himself standing up, shuffling carefully towards the door and pulling it open.  While he had only been able to see her profile before, head on is much more unnatural looking. Red eyes and snot streaming out of her nose, she looks like a textbook rom-com breakup victim.Rey still lights up when she sees him though, rubbing at her nose.  “Hey, kiddo. What’s up?”Ben doesn’t want to infantilize her but she seems like she needs soft and tender speech instead of his usual “you drunk piece of shit” cadence.





	stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine

**Author's Note:**

> some tags!
> 
> please do not read if u are sensitive to:  
> recreational drug use  
> bodily fluids mentions  
> binge drinking mentions

Poe owes him.

Colossally, greatly, insanely.

Ben hates front desk duty in Willard hall, especially on Friday nights when CU Boulder’s students decide to go out and binge drink until someone blacks out first.  Or until some girl takes their top off and participates in whatever fucked frat game is favorite that week. Poe left the shift to him due to a  _date_ , and Ben is a nice enough guy to tolerate it for the sake of his friend getting laid for once.

Lucky for him, it’s still early in the night and very few wasted people stream through the doors and towards their rooms with their equally drunk boyfriend/girlfriend/roommate/worst enemy in tow.  He’s a “don’t ask and don’t tell” type because well, kids will be kids right?

Freshmen are just the biggest babies of all, screaming up and down about independence and adulthood until there’s vomit streaming from their nose and Ben has to pull them out of the co-ed bathroom and down the stairs into a waiting ambulance.  

He swears he loves his job.  He likes his Nintendo Switch more, wholly consumed by Breath of the Wild.  The empty google doc that should hold the beginnings of a foreign policy report sits open on his laptop at the wrap around desk.  Procrastination is another thing he’s perfect at, avoiding his responsibilities like an Olympic sport that no one wins.

The last heart of Link vanishes and the screen reads a big  **Game Over.**   “Motherfucker.”  He slumps against the back of the squeaky office chair, setting the device down and performing a bored spin.

He’s on his sixth spin when he hears a crash that gets his Nikes to dig into the ratty carpet and stop.  Shaking away the hazy dizziness, he looks through the glass at the (over glorified holding pen) between the outside doors and the doors into the residence hall.  A keycard is needed to access the residence hall, and he watches the student peel herself away from the glass that she had just run into; then stumbling back until the back of her head whacks into the inside of the other set of doors.

Usually, Ben would be doubled over in raucous laughter but this is just sad to watch, given the early hour of twelve in the morning.  It’s against protocol to open the doors without a keycard or a resident’s order. But the girl rips the hood of her hoodie down, three telling buns revealing themselves.

Rey’s a girl on his assigned floor, one that doesn’t give him any issues.  He’s had the likes of failed sorority girls and goth girls scream in his face, spit at him, or hit on him.  Rey stays quiet, besides the occasional hello as she passes the desk when coming back from a three AM study session.

He finds himself standing up, shuffling carefully towards the door and pulling it open.  While he had only been able to see her profile before, head on is much more unnatural looking. Red eyes and snot streaming out of her nose, she looks like a textbook rom-com breakup victim.  

She still lights up when she sees him though, rubbing at her nose.  “Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” Ben doesn’t want to infantilize her but she seems like she needs soft and tender speech instead of his usual “you drunk piece of shit” cadence.

Her mouth opens and then shuts, her eyes squinting.  “Hi, Ben.” Her speech is lucid and unslurred, but there’s still something off that he can’t quite identify.

“Did you lose your keycard?”  Ben can issue a new one on demand, knowing the clearance codes after looking over Holdo’s shoulder enough times.

Rey’s head shakes so furiously that he swears it’s going to fly off her neck and roll like a bowling ball.  He opens his mouth to speak, but she beats him to it. “It’s stuck.”

What?  He can see his brows knit together in the glass behind her.  There’s no location where a keycard could get stuck. “See?” Rey’s then lifting her black pullover and he has the sense to avert his eyes before he gets slapped with a lawsuit.  

“Look.”  Her voice is encouraging enough that he quickly glances back, at the sliver of a tan stomach that’s bordered by heather grey leggings and a white sports bra.  The keycard is tucked in the waistband, right where there’s easy access for any set of hands.

What’s the problem?  Rey doesn’t look drunk.  Maybe a little wide-eyed, but not blacked-out.  “It’s...right there.” He remains calm as she drops her hoodie, lower lip beginning to wobble.

“My arms don’t exist.”

 **What the fuck**.

Ben wants to howl in hysterics, holding back as she begins to sniffle.  Then her face twists up and the mood plunges as she wails. Loud enough for his ears to bleed, he holds out his hands to soothe her sobs.

“Rey, Rey, Rey!  Hey!” His voice resembles talking to a six-year-old, quickly trying to satisfy before a full-on tantrum.  

She keeps sniffling while rubbing at her eyes, mascara smearing all over her lids.  Ben doesn’t attempt to warn her against it, knowing that he needs to be very careful with his words.  “It’s not funny.” Her voice cracks in a way that would break even a dictator’s heart.

“No, it’s not.  You’re right. You said your arms don’t exist anymore?”

Ben seriously needs a pay raise for this shit.

She nods while smearing the snot across her cheeks.  “I don’t know where they are.”

_You’re fucking using them, you fool._

“That’s okay!  We’ll find them eventually.  Do you want to come in?” The fake positivity makes him cringe but she manages to nod and shoves past him.  She stops close to him and he nearly collides with her as he shuts the door and hears the automatic lock whir.

Another sniffle, “Do you have water?”

There’s a gallon jug beneath his desk, one of those plastic ones from King Soopers that screams BPA.  That’s the Boulder rubbing off on him. “I do. Shouldn’t we get you up to your room though-”

“I don’t want to be alone.”  More blubbering sobs accompany it and his patience wears even thinner.  Though, he’s getting sad himself, unprecedented for an “emotionless pet rock” in Poe’s terms.  

He needs to figure out how to handle this.  Pushing both hands through his hair, he focuses on the carpet.  “What did you take?”

Ben can handle all types of drugs; they are in Boulder after all.  Acid and LSD are demons he’s battled before, bad trips being no stranger.  Her eyes expand to saucers and it's then that he can see the extent of the redness that rims green irises.  “Am I in trouble?”

What is she, five?  She’s panicking and he needs to get this over with.  “You’re not in trouble. This is so I can help you, okay?”

The close of her mouth makes him want to tear his hair out.  “I promise. Let me help you, Rey.”

Another pause.  “Rey, please.” He’s so fucking tired all the sudden.  Nothing is more tempting than slamming his head on the desk to snooze for a bit.  Maybe she’d get it together by the time he rouses.

“A brownie.”

Oh.  

God damn it.

Ben rubs his forehead as the situation becomes so crystal clear that he swears his temper shatters like glass.

“Okay.  Rey.” He’s trying to maintain an evenness so uncharacteristic of his entire soul.

She’s looking everywhere but at him and he can’t help the way his hand raises and his fingers snap like she’s a dog.  Rey focuses then. He speaks slowly, “You took an edible.”

Her eyes widen and lock with his in understandable fear.  Ben doesn’t hesitate, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re just super high right now.”

Maybe logic would work.

It doesn’t, based on how she begins to shake like a wet chihuahua and he can’t help the way his hand flashes out to hold her shoulder, so she doesn’t fall to pieces.  “The good thing is that this wears off. All you need to do is get some sleep-”

“I don’t want to go to sleep.”

Two steps forward, eight back.  He sucks in a breath and keeps his hand solidly on her shoulder.  “I think you’ll want to in a couple of minutes.”

Ben knows he hits the deck whenever he takes one.  He can handle his THC, unlike a newbie like her.  Her head begins to shake once more. “Rey.”

“Can I sit with you?”

Technically, residents aren’t allowed behind the desk.  It’s a daycare type rule that makes him roll his eyes everytime he’s reminded of it.  Kicked puppies ought to be an exception and he finds himself gulping and nodding.

“Don’t touch anything, okay?”  Ben doesn’t even want to deal with latent fingerprints, damning evidence that he broke the cardinal RA rule.  Now he sounds paranoid when the sunshine girl should feel so. She’s darting behind the desk, falling into the spare office chair with a dramatic flop.

Taking one more cleansing breath, he loops back around the desk and settles back into his chair.  It squeaks with a shift in his posture. Acting as if she weren’t there, he picks up the Switch and continues where he left off.  Zelda starts once again with score trumpeting through the tinny speakers and pulling his focus somewhere else.

Until her head practically  _nuzzles_ into his shoulder, akin to a kitten with a littermate.  “Rey.” It’s a tentative warning. This is the most compromising position, sure to get him fired if Holdo just so happened to wander in.

“What is that?”  It’s said with mysticism.

Ben glances to the door, making sure no one is sneaking up.  “Zelda.”

There’s a long “ooooh” sound that makes the tip of his ears go hot and reflexively shift his neck so nothing else is touching.  Ben can’t afford a trial; even one that his mother would happily pull him from.

“What are you trying to do?”  

This is a complex topic for someone this high.  He keeps it simple, “Lots of things. Get to a castle is kinda the main focus.”

“Huh.  How’s it going?”

He shrugs despite the weight of her head, “I’ve done it once before.  This is my second playthrough.”

“Oh.  Can I have some water?”

Ben glances to the jug beneath the desk.  “Go ahead.” He can toss it, fearing college-grade germs that he’s avoided so well until now.  

“Thank you.”  It’s so quiet that he swears it must’ve been the ice maker down the hall.  The plastic crunches as she grips it, tipping the mouthpiece into her mouth and guzzling as if her life depended on it.  The girl must be good at keg stands too, based on the amount she swallows down without stopping.

Ben turns his attention back on the screen, even as he hears the bottle slam on the counter.

There’s some much-needed silence for a bit, except for the occasional shift in the chair or the smack of her lips.

Then, “I want Oreos.”

Ben shuts his eyes and pauses the game, leaning back.  Maybe he could bargain. “If I get you some Oreos, will you go to sleep?”  Ben will buy seventeen packs from the vending machine if it means that she’d pass out in her dorm room.

“Umm...no.”  Ben sighs at her defiance and cards through his hair.

What did he expect?

“Can I still have Oreos?”

Maybe food would aid the passing out process like a silent killer.  He nods with a resolve. “Okay. Let’s go on a field trip.”

He gets up as she hops up with a “Yay!”  At least she’s happy about something, faring better than the sobbing only thirty minutes prior.  He takes the emergency keys with him, lanyard dragging off the desk and thumping against his calf.  

Leading the way, he rolls his shoulders to get rid of the knot between the blades.  Poor posture was most likely the culprit. “Do they make you wear those t-shirts?”

She catches up to walk beside him and he looks down at the unfortunate Buffs logo that stretches across his chest.  “Yeah.” He keeps the acerbic feelings out. It’s not like he didn’t want to be an RA. The perks of a single dorm with an attached bathroom color the necessity for the position, along with the financial freedom that living off campus didn’t have.  In exchange, he has to be the equivalent of a vomit bucket; for emotions or actual bodily fluids. It’s his last year here before graduate school and he’s counting the days until he can wave the Flatirons goodbye.

They wander into the spartan kitchen, Ben avoiding looking at the stove in fear of gagging.  It’s always so disgusting until janitorial comes once a week. His eyes set on the vending machine and scan for the Oreos.

They sit like the holy grail on D23.  Fishing his wallet from his back pocket, he rifles through the cash pocket and only finds crisp twenty dollar bills.  He left his debit card in his room this morning, not bothering to run up and get it during his free two hours today; he had decided on the gym instead.

Sucking a deep breath into his lungs, he feeds a twenty into the vending machine and the credit pops up.  “Go crazy.” At this point, he’s on walking a tightrope of patience. Her greedy fingers fix on the keypad, punching in the magic code in rapid succession.

Each package hits the bottom of the vending machine with a clunk, Ben focusing on the wind of the coil that holds the snacks.  The machine lets out a long beep when there’s insufficient credit for another pack. He then watches her crouch down and greedily drag the mountain of wrappers from the door, like a dragon hoarding gold.

They’re overflowing in her arms but she’s still beaming.  Ben can’t stay mad at her for long. Not with a smile like that.

“Happy?”

She nods vigorously and begins to walk away, turning left at the archway instead of right.  “Wrong way.” It’s passive as he wanders the right way, back to her as he steps down the hall.  Her quick feet follow, the rustle of Oreo sleeves dropping to the floor indicating her proximity.

He sits down again and watches her skid behind the desk like a drifting car.  She throws her hoard onto the counter and sits back in the chair beside him. Ben counts the amount of Oreos she’s managed to ascertain on his dime.

Twelve packages with five cookies each.  That’s sixty Oreos and there’s no way she’d eat all of them tonight.  He doesn’t bother with his video game anymore, laying his head on top of his arms on the desk and shutting his eyes for a moment of peace.  He still had three hours at this hellhole of a desk, then Poe would hopefully take over so Ben could take a shower and crash. The process would repeat the next day and the next after that.

A second package opens.  “Ben?”

He doesn’t bother to lift his head, “Yeah?”

Something nudges against his forearm and he barely lifts his head.  An Oreo rests against his bicep, and she looks as if she’s seen god itself.  He picks up the cookie gingerly and bites it. He’s not one for sweet things but he’s a people pleaser.  Especially for gorgeous girls whose eyes look like they’ve been maced.

He wipes his mouth of crumbs.  “Have you been high before?”

The query makes him freeze up.  Does he lie? Is this technically fine to talk about?  Can he admit that he’s probably going to roll a blunt after this and blow it through a dryer sheet tube out the window for the sake of sleeping?

He decides on vague, “Oh yeah.”

Rey starts to giggle.  “I like this.”

His heart becomes so gooey that he’s not sure how he has a pulse anymore.  “Good. I don’t think you should be telling me that.”

Rey’s head shakes as she inhales a cookie.  After rubbing her lips together, “You’re the cool RA.  It’s fine.”

That’s something he doubts, but the girl is incapacitated.  “Thanks.” She beams and another cookie pushes past her lips while she spins in the office chair.  Ben lays his head back down, one eye peeking out to observe her. Things stay calm for a long time, only crunching and munching filling the air beside the occasional kick on of the AC.

That is until, “Hey Solo!”  His head snaps up fast enough to incur whiplash, Rey freezing as if caught in a bathroom stall.  Poe Dameron, the king of hell himself, is sauntering into the lobby with a funny sort of walk.

It’s ammunition to fire an insult.  “Get kicked out?”

Poe sneers, “I was dropping him off here.  Name’s Finn, he lives on floor five.”

Rey doesn’t hold back, “I love Finn!”  The world seems to be small for actually social people.  He crosses his arms in defense over his chest.

“So what’s Rey-bae doing behind the desk?”  Poe’s eyebrows waggle and her giggle is like a schoolgirl.  Ben would enjoy it if it weren’t in response to the dumbass.

He stretches his arms over his head to fake casualness.  “Rey took an edible.”

Poe stretches into his charming grin and holds out his palm to Rey.  “High-five champ! Are you having fun?” That response is entirely beyond protocol but she’s still giggling after their hands slap together.

“Yeah!  Ben bought me Oreos!”  She points excitedly at the pile that is now missing four packages.  

“Wow, how generous.  Ben won’t even buy me a banana in the caf.”

“That was one fucking time, Poe.”  He can’t help his childish temper or the cross of his arms again.

Poe snorts, “A Dameron never forgets.  I can take over the shift though.” The uncharacteristic kindness catches him off guard, squinting at his very awake former roommate.

“Get some sleep, Ben.  Your dark circles look like bruises.”  Ben can’t help but glare at him, then shutting his laptop and picking up his Switch.  He turns in the office chair and opens up his backpack, shoving both in the protective laptop pocket.  It would work until he robotically unpacked it in his room.

The crinkle of wrappers gets him to look over.  “You wanna stay here, Rey?” Ben chances a look between her and Poe, and gets the satisfaction of a, “No thank you.”

There’s a yawn that punctuates it; the sleepy effects of THC are kicking in.  “Ben will escort you to your room then.” Poe’s suggesting it like Ben wasn’t going to in the first place, not wanting her to face plant on the carpet of her residency floor.  There’s no response as she stands, shoulders slumping like a lead weight was attached to each blade. She shuffles in the direction of the elevator, leaving her Oreos behind.

Ben hastily scoops them up and catches up to her by the time the doors slide open.  She steps in first, leaning against the padded wall. His room is on the same floor as her, pressing the button with the toe of his sneaker.  The doors slide shut and the elevator moves with a shaky rumble that’s befitting of a twice-remodeled dorm hall.

“What’s your last name?”  The question makes him glance over.

“Why do you ask?”

“So I can look you up in the staff directory.”

At least she’s honest.  Does she want his information that much?  

“RA’s aren’t in there.  Can I give you a business card?  If you still want to talk to me tomorrow-”

“I’ll take the business card.”

The words are breezy and he nods to himself, adjusting the Oreo packages to one arm and reaching back into his wallet.  Flipping it open with one hand, he expertly pulls a business card and holds it out to her.

She snatches it from between his fingers, holding it close to her face to read it.  He flips his wallet shut and shoves it in his back pocket.

The doors open and she glides out, trailing behind her down the hall.  It’s desolate except for a canoodling couple that they have to squeeze past.  Ben would typically tell them to knock it off or take it to a room, but he’s only focused on the bounce of Rey’s buns on the back of her head.

She skids to a stop in front of her door, plastered in various stickers that Ben was going to have to work overtime to remove in May.  He smiles fondly at the fluorescent yellow “Varykino Lake” sticker before refocusing on the way she’s now mooning up at him.

This feels too much like a movie, just right before the penultimate kiss.  He clears his throat and looks away. “Your Oreos?” He holds out his arms to her.  Rey glances him up and down before swiping her keycard and nudging the door open with her foot.  She holds it in place while leaning to take the cookie packages from his clutches.

She throws them in her room without a look back, not attempting to move from the proximity of their torsos.  Ben bites his lower lip and shakes a lock of hair from his eyes. Nothing prepares him for the way her arms wrap around him, a bear hug that nearly collapses his ribs.  He didn’t think she’d have such strength in her.

“Thank you.  You’re super duper cool.”

It’s spoken into his chest, muffled by his shirt.  Ben can’t help but hug her back.  Human contact feels so foreign, but it still felt so...warm? He’s not sure how to calm the speed of his heart.

They unwind too fast for his liking, his lungs unwilling to expand as he tips his chin up.  “We’ll get breakfast tomorrow, okay?”

He’s never been asked out before.  After three rejections, he barely did it himself.  His mouth opens before she intervenes, “Cool. Goodnight Ben.”

Giving him one last smile, she slinks into her room and slams the door.  It’s all so fast that he believes he had dreamed her up.

He swears that until he flops on the bed and pulls out the rolling tray stashed under his bed, phone vibrating on the nightstand.  Blueberry white owl wraps sit next to it, grabbing both in one lean. He unlocks his phone to a text.

_u smell rly good_

**Do I?**

_o yeah_

_u kno what’s rly funny?_ 🤔

**What’s really funny?**

_u could’ve kissed me anytime u wanted_

**I think that’s the edible talking.  Get some sleep, Rey.**

_i don’t think so, but goodnight_ 🥰

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i wrote this all on an edible so i hope its good :). i mentioned this in my [AU thread](https://twitter.com/dankobah/status/1086057146570010625?s=20) and had to write it  
> with the encouragement of some people. so here u are!
> 
> thoughts and feelings r welcome @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah) and [tumblr](https://dankobah.tumblr.com/).
> 
> work title from "hot mess" by cobra starship
> 
> im gonna go pass out now, goodnight! 😚


End file.
